


Year of Hell

by RobinStories



Category: Batman (1966), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Consensual Kink, Consensual Underage Sex, Dubious Consent, F/F, M/M, Mind Games, Mind Manipulation, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Spanking, Non-Consensual Touching, Teasing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-21 11:35:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22560268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinStories/pseuds/RobinStories
Summary: Set in an alternate universe where Batman/Bruce has died and Dick has hung up his Robin costume and assumed the persona of Nightwing at age 17. Now that the streets are once again patrolled by a masked vigilante, it would seem like things are back to normal. However, the long-thought-out plans of one mysterious criminal are now going to come to fruition.
Relationships: Dick Grayson/Catwoman, Dick Grayson/Original Character(s), Dick Grayson/Original Female Character(s), Dick Grayson/Original Male Character(s), Dick Grayson/Selina Kyle, Dick Grayson/Slade Wilson, Nightwing/Catwoman, Nightwing/Slade Wilson, Robin/Original Character(s), Robin/Original Male Character, Slade Wilson/Robin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 58





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Note that Dick is 17 during this story.
> 
> Also, this is fanfiction, meaning I'm doing whatever the hell I want with the characters, story, etc. Please don't comment about how this isn't what it's supposed to be. Pretty sure all fanfiction isn't what it's supposed to be! If you don't like it, don't read it.
> 
> That being said, I love constructive feedback and comments let me know people enjoy the story, so please comment below!

Honestly, what pissed Dick off more than anything wasn't that Bruce had died. Obviously that's the worst possible thing that could happen. But the twist of the knife was the manner in which he died. _Twist of the knife_ , Dick thought as he chuckled softly. If only it had been something that intimate. Dick's blue eyes opened and he looked down at the 8x10 picture frame he was holding in his hands. The picture showed the stage at the largest funeral in Gotham's history. But it was a lie. It was a funeral for Batman, not Bruce Wayne. In the picture stood the mayor at the podium, delivering a very moving eulogy to the Caped Crusader. Behind him and off to the left stood a somber Commissioner Gordon and a burly and red-faced Chief O'Hara, who's big hand rested on the much smaller, caped shoulder of Robin, the Boy Wonder.

Dick looked at the masked face of his younger self. It was stone-cold, almost scarily so. The eyes were blank, empty, lifeless. They stared at an object that didn't exist, lost in world of diminishing absolutes. His gloved hands were motionless at his side, his brightly colored uniform an island of color in a sea of black. Robin's smooth, slightly-tanned legs and green pixie boots added further ridiculousness to the situation. The uniform made sense fighting crime. It was lightweight, flexible, with lots of exposed skin which seemed dangerous but provided his small, lithe body to move effortlessly and to great effect. 

_A lot of good it did that night_ Dick thought again as he put the picture back down. 

It was two years ago, just before Dick turned 15. He and Batman had been investigating a mysterious crime lord that had arrived in Gotham. Almost nothing was known about him, but many of the criminals they would take down seemed to have ties to him (or her, Dick supposed) in some form or another. All they had was a name: Deathstroke. It was one hell of a name, Dick remembered thinking. And the way people spoke of him made him seem very dangerous. 

The investigation was more difficult than any the Duo had had before. Every end was a dead end. Every lead went nowhere. No one talked. No one seemed to know anything. It was like Deathstroke had managed to find a way to control everything without touching anything. At first, Bruce had assumed it was a phantom. Something concocted to keep the Duo from finding the real culprit. It wasn't until the Riddler was in their grasp yet again and he mentioned something about Deathstroke that Bruce began to take it more seriously than any investigation before. 

Eventually, the decision was made that Bruce and Dick had to disappear. The investigation, the late nights, were really cutting into their real lives, so much so that Bruce and Dick were beginning to have questions asked by all the wrong people about their absences from certain things. So Bruce decided to take a long, 3 month vacation to one of his private islands in the South Pacific. Dick Grayson took a sabbatical from high school to join him and Bruce would tutor him privately. Ultimately, it was a decision that would help solve the issue of what happens when either Bruce or Batman died. An issue that Dick had hoped he'd never have to deal with. 

About a month into their full-time lives as the Caped Crusaders, they had just finished another frustrating night of dead end clues. The Batmobile motored along the near-empty streets of downtown Gotham on their way to another debriefing with the Commissioner and Chief when they spotted a gang trying to knock over a jewelry store. They stopped and quickly hopped out. Personally, Dick was happy because they finally had an enemy they could see and bring to justice. They engaged the four criminals quite handily, but what they didn't know was that there were four more still inside the store. 

Robin had just sent his third guy flying when he heard the shot. Then another, then another. Three shots rang out and Robin immediately crouched down low, fearing he'd been the target. If only. He turned around to see the smoking gun of one of the gang members standing in the doorway. Batman's body lay face down on the sidewalk, a growing pool of blood forming underneath him. His gray spandex was no match for a bullet, that's why they had their batshields. The man who fired was shaking. His eyes were wide. He'd reacted, not really thinking. 

Sirens sounded nearby and the gang members who were not knocked out cold fled in a panic. When the police arrived, they found a few unconscious bodies and the sidekick of the greatest hero ever, kneeling beside the body of his mentor and friend. 

The next few days were a blur of emotion and events that Dick still couldn't get his mind around. After the funeral, Robin disappeared. He refused the calls of Gordon and the bright costume was never worn again. Dick had to stay in the house for a month before Bruce Wayne had a heart attack on his island and died. It was only then that Dick Grayson could return, now orphaned for the third time: once with his parents, once with Batman, and again with Bruce. Although the third time, he was just numb. That funeral was easier. That funeral was smaller. That funeral was just as big of a lie. 

For the next two years, the streets of Gotham grew worse as crime increased and the police were stretched thin. Dick had the mansion sold and he and Alfred moved into a downtown high rise. But the two years were not wasted. Dick used them to train, to get stronger, faster, taller. He developed new methods, new gadgets, and finally a new costume and persona. A few days before his 17th birthday, almost two years to the day that Batman was shot, Dick sat in his new hideout, safely concealed beneath the Wayne High Rise they lived in. He looked at his old costume in a display case and then to the case next to it which held the new creation that he and Alfred had designed and created. It was solid black and one piece. The feet had solid soles and it appeared as if he was wearing boots. A blue bird was splashed across the chest and a black domino mask completed the look, along with a black utility belt. 

Dick stripped down to nothing (Alfred was gone, obviously) and looked at his naked body in the mirror. At almost 17, he had made a lot of progress. He was 5'10 and topped the scale at 155 pounds of pure muscle. His pecs were now nicely outlined and stuck out slightly. His six pack was defined, his arms were lean but well defined and the muscle could easily be seen. His legs were strong and once again, all of his muscle could be seen. He was never going to be the hulking man Bruce was, but combined with his speed and agility, he could very easily hold his own now much better than when he wore the red, green, and yellow. 

Dick had entered puberty well and had patches of hair under his arms and around his soft, cut dick. His lower legs had darkening hair, but his thighs were still smooth. He didn't have a lot of hair, but it was visible. There was also the faintest hint of a trail from his navel down to his pubic hair. Smiling, he pulled on the base layer of his costume, which was simply a black pair of briefs. However, the crotch was lined with a carbon fiber plate to protect him from low-blowing criminals. 

He pulled the costume out of the case and pulled it on. It was ingenious. It was very loose and easy for Dick to slide up from his feet. He put his arms into it and adjusted it around his neck before double-tapping the center of his chest. Electrons from his attached gloves activated the material which sealed up tightly around his toned body. He liked the fact he didn't need to zipper the back like he had to with his red vest. He was now covered from the neck down and the material showed his muscles quite well, but not too much. The material was so flexible that he honestly felt like he was only wearing the speedo underneath, which took a little getting used to after going so long without wearing his old green briefs. It was also made from carbon fibers and was bulletproof. That was a necessity. Dick clipped the utility belt around his narrow waist and put the domino mask on his face. 

He mounted the motorcycle that was nearby and sped out of the underground hideout and into the streets. That very night, he took out a whole street gang that was robbing a convenience store without breaking a sweat. He was back, and so was justice. 

Meanwhile, in a secret location, a man in a black and orange mask looked at CCTV footage of a young crimefighter in all black taking out a group of pathetic street thugs. Behind him stood someone at attention. 

"It's time. He's back," Deathstroke said. The man nodded and walked out of the room. 


	2. Old Friends and Enemies

Commissioner Gordon and Chief O'Hara sat in the upper floor office in silence. Both were scanning the latest crime reports which were anything but positive. This had become a grim Friday routine for the two of them. Ever since Batman had died and Robin disappeared, crime had skyrocketed and regardless of the how much police presence there was, the criminals were just more confident now than ever. 

"Mind if I interrupt?" came a voice from behind them that made them jump. They turned towards the window 10th floor window and saw a young man crouched on the windowsill. He was dressed in skin-tight material that was all black, save for a blue bird insignia on the chest. He had a black domino mask and his medium-short dark brown hair was neat, but not too neat. 

"Saints alive!" O'Hara said in his Irish brogue, drawing his pistol and aiming at the young man. But the masked man didn't move. Rather, he smiled. 

"It's ok, Chief, it's me. It's Robin."

O'Hara and Gordon's eyes both got wide as they took in the slightly older frame of the former sidekick. O'Hara's gun slowly lowered as they saw the eyes, the hair, and the smile of the Boy Wonder they had missed for two years. 

"Boy Wonder! It can't be!" Gordon said. Dick flinched slightly at the old nickname. He'd hated it then and now it really stung because it not only brought up the old memories, but made him feel like a little kid. 

"Please, Commissioner, I'm not Robin anymore," Dick said, stepping into the room as O'Hara holstered his pistol. "I've taken on a new persona: Nightwing."

The two older men looked at the defined body of the teenager who stood before them with his hands on his narrow hips. 

"You're right, Nightwing, I'm sorry. You've certainly grown since the last time we met," Gordon said, extending a hand. Nightwing shook it firmly and did the same with O'Hara. "Does this mean that we once again have a masked vigilante helping us patrol our streets and rid this city of crime?" Gordon asked hopefully. 

"Yes it does," Nightwing responded with a small smile. "I'll do everything I can to help bring this city back to what it once was. I'm no Batman, but I'll give it everything I have."

"We know you will," Gordon said. He glanced over at the red phone that he refused to take off his desk. The glass cover was covered in dust. "How do we reach you?" Gordon asked, looking back at the masked young man. 

"The same phone should do the trick," Dick responded. "I'll be more of a night patroller, but anytime you need me, just pick up the phone."

"Saints be praised!" O'Hara said, slapping Nightwing's shoulder jovially. "It's great to see you again."

"Likewise," Dick said, smiling more warmly. "First things first, I'm going after Deathstroke."

"He or she seems to have simply grown more powerful and more mysterious since Batman's death," Gordon said solemnly. 

"That's what I've been seeing," Nightwing responded thoughtfully. 

"Do you have any leads? Have you been investigating in your absence?" O'Hara asked hopefully. 

"A little. Mostly I've been training and working to become independent," Dick responded. "My first lead is to start where Batman left off."

"And where's that?" Gordon asked with a raised eyebrow. 

"I'd rather not say just yet," Nightwing responded seriously. "He and I were talking about it in the Batmobile right before we encountered that gang. He was apprehensive about using this source, but we'd hit so many dead ends, that this was the only seeming way forward. It's dangerous, but I'm confident that I'll be fine, even if nothing comes of it."

"Good luck, Nightwing," Gordon said proudly. Nightwing gave a little salute with his right index finger before walking to the window and simply leaping out. The two men rushed to the side and saw the black figure grappling away.

"Godspeed," Gordon whispered. 

***

Nightwing knew the message had been received, but there hadn't been a response. This was expected but still made him slightly nervous. He parked his cycle in an alleyway nearby and engaged the cloaking device on it. He watched it hum and then disappear to the naked eye. He then engaged a grappler and ascended to the top floor of the old warehouse. There was an open window on the east side where he was and he disengaged the hook and slid inside the dark building. He pressed the side of his domino mask and a lens dropped over his eyes that engaged night vision. He scanned the large room but saw nothing but stacks of boxes. He made a mental note to try to outfit the lens with infrared as well. 

He clicked the lens off so his eyes were uncovered again and walked slowly forward. His arms were at his side, but his muscles were tensed. He wanted to call out, but knew better. His attached soles of his suit were silent on the floor. He got about 20 feet into the room when he heard a faint sound. Suddenly something small and sharp hit the right side of his neck. Nightwing winced and made a small, very soft yelp. Before he could raise his hand to feel it, he realized he couldn't move anything below his neck. He stood like a statue in the middle of the room. He cursed violently to himself inside his head when he heard a voice. 

"Meeooowwwww," came the sultry tones of Catwoman's voice. A dim light filled the room as she sashayed into view from the direction of the dart. "What an upgrade, Boy Wonder," she purred as she stood a few feet in front of him. 

"Catwoman," Nightwing said with a slight sneer. She was dressed in solid black spandex, with every curve of her body perfectly outlined. She also had a black mask on and Dick thought for just a moment that they might have looked slightly similar to each other. But his suit was more textured and not as body hugging as hers was. He couldn't help but run his eyes over her slender body, now a few inches shorter than him. Last time they met, she was taller. 

"I love the new suit," she said, walking up to him and running her claws down his chest and over the blue bird. Due to the carbon fiber woven in the fabric, Nightwing could barely feel it, which was probably for the best. He could now see what Bruce saw in her, although he never outright admitted it. "Although, there's something to be said about those tight little green briefs you used to run around in," she snickered. 

Nightwing's face went slightly red, but she didn't notice. She walked slowly around his paralyzed body, taking in the muscles and curves that he now displayed as well. She slapped his ass a couple of times, which Dick felt a bit more than the scratches. She giggled as Nightwing began to growl. 

"Enough, Catwoman," Nightwing said. 

"Oh, but Boy Wonder, why can't we play a little?" Catwoman pouted as she came back into view. "By the way, do you like my new drug? It paralyzes the body below where the dart enters. Lucky for me your suit isn't completely covering your body," she said. Dick had thought about it, but practically it didn't make sense. It was a risk he was willing to take as her shot was because she was so good. Most would miss the small target of his neck. 

"I'm not here to play. I'm here for information," Nightwing said flatly as Catwoman ran her tongue over her lips as she looked the teenager's body over and over again. 

"Batman was much more obliging," she said demurely. 

"He would never," Nightwing said with a curled lip of anger. 

"Not when you were with him. All business with the sidekick in tow. But before you came around, and those times when it was past your bedtime, he would indulge me," she said, enjoying the clear rise she was getting out the new hero. 

"Do you have information or not?" Dick asked flatly. 

"And what, per say, can I help you with?" she asked, circling his helpless body once again. 

"Deathstroke," he said flatly again. he could feel her hands on his back. It felt like she was looking for a zipper.

"Ah yes, everyone's favorite topic," she said, continuing her futile search as the seam sealed up when the suit was activated and no zipper existed. She returned to the front of the prone Nightwing. "But information is a valuable commodity my dear...what do you call yourself now?" she asked with a slight smile.

"Nightwing," he growled.

"Oooo I like it. Very dark and grown up," she teased. "Well like I was saying, information is pricey."

"What do you want, Catwoman?" Dick asked plainly and rather impatiently. He didn't like being toyed with and really didn't like how vulnerable he felt.

"My my, such a rush you're in," Catwoman purred, stroking his smooth cheek with the back of her hand before repeating the process with her sharp nails, grazing over his smooth skin and causing an involuntary shiver to run down his body. "Virgins are always so bad at foreplay," she added, pinching his cheek with a smile. 

Dick's face reddened again at the word 'virgin'. He was, in fact, but he hardly had time for relationships. It wasn't something he was necessarily proud of, either. Also, the word coming from a villainess like Catwoman in this situation frightened him more than it embarrassed him. 

"Foreplay? Do you think I'm in the mood to play? This is serious business!" Dick managed to say as Catwoman was absent-mindedly tracing his burgeoning pectorals with her claws. 

"Batman loved to play with me," she said softly, tracing the blue bird on his chest. 

"He would never," Nightwing sneered. 

"Again with 'he would never'," Catwoman said. "Clearly you didn't know him as well as you thought. But the past is the past and the information you want is rather expensive." She resumed her circling of the former Boy Wonder, her sharp claw tracing the slightly-raised neckline of his suit. Her dart remained firmly in his neck, about an inch above where the suit stopped. He could feel her trying to dig a claw under the suit, but even her sharp claws couldn't pry it off his skin. That was the genius of it.

"Tell me," she said, coming back around to face the frozen hero, "do you sleep in this thing?"

"Of course I do," Dick said with heavy sarcasm.

"It's just, I can't seem to figure out how you get in and out of it," she purred, her hands resting on his chest before sliding down his abs to his utility belt which was not part of the suit. 

"Why would you need to know that?" Dick asked, slightly confused but fearing where she was going. 

"Because my price lies under the suit," she said with a seductive grin. 

Nightwing gulped hard as she hooked a claw behind his utility belt and ran it to the center where it buckled. She paused there and applied some pressure and a spark shot out of the belt. She pulled her hand away quickly but didn't make a noise of surprise. 

"Your costume security has certainly gone up," she said as the belt stayed in place and she licked her claw with a luscious motion. 

"Past events necessitate some new security," Nightwing said. 

"Tell you what, Boy Wonder," she said, enjoying his reaction to the old title. "You tell me how to remove your suit and I'll give you some priceless information about your precious Deathstroke. 

"No way," Nightwing said sternly. "I won't risk exposing myself, even for information that's valuable. I'll find it another way," he said confidently. 

"No, you won't," Catwoman said before chuckling softly to herself. "You realize that I'm trying to help a boy out, right?" she said, sliding up to him quickly and making full frontal body contact with the prone hero. Dick could feel the warmth of her body, even through his suit. She cupped his crotch with her hand, but Dick felt nothing because of the plate within the briefs that protected where he's most vulnerable. However, she ran her hand up and down the area and pushed in and Dick certainly felt that. He inhaled quickly and bit his lower lip as she leaned up and licked his smooth cheek. 

"This price could be very good for you," she said. "And even with all this protection," she added, her hand moving around and pushing on the protected groin of Nightwing, "you wish right now it wasn't there."

That was the exact opposite of what Nightwing was thinking. If he was in his old Robin costume with no protection, he couldn't imagine what would be going on. 

"Let's...let's make a deal," Nightwing said quickly. She stepped away from him as he breathed a sigh of relief. 

"I'm intrigued Boy Wonder. What kind of deal?" she asked, looking over his lean, toned body.

"Give me the information you have, then take out the dart, and I'll remove the suit myself. All you need to do is turn around so you don't know how it's done. Deal?"

"Do you promise?" she asked with a slightly pouty face.

"Yes," Dick growled. 

"Well, you've always been an upright young man of your word," she said with a wide smile. "Deathstroke's operation is nearly flawless and keeps him isolated. But he does have one weak spot to get more information. He's got a lieutenant of sorts who's a little more talkative than she should be. She goes by Dagger. I know, an odd name. She manages a portion of his operation in the club district downtown. You're probably not even old enough to get past the bouncers, but you'll find her in one of those clubs every night. I'm sure you've got some persuasive ways to get her to talk," Catwoman said. Dick made quick mental notes in his head.

"Now, I kept my side of the bargain. Your turn," she said. She reached up and pulled the dart out of Nightwing's neck. Immediately he regained the use of all of his body and was unsteady for a moment before steadying himself. He looked expectantly at her and she rolled her eyes and turned around. 

Two seconds later, she said, "ready or not, here I come," and turned around again only to see an empty room. She rolled her eyes again and walked away. 

Outside the building, Nightwing powered up his bike and sped back to his hideout. He was breathing fast about the encounter he'd just had. It was so different than anything he'd faced as a younger Robin. He hoped that all criminals weren't like that with older heroes, or this might not be the job for him. "Whatever happened to a simple deathtrap?" Dick thought as he pulled into the hideout and powered down the cycle. 

Alfred had long since gone to bed. Dick unclipped his belt and put it on the computer desk. He then pulled off his domino mask and then double-tapped the center of the bird with his gloved hand and the suit loosened immediately with the seam opening in the back down to about the middle of his back. He shook it off his smooth shoulders and it fell to the floor and he stepped out of it. He tossed it over a chair and walked in the black briefs over to the bathroom. He slid the briefs with the carbon fiber cup off of his toned legs and stood naked in the bathroom. He turned the briefs in his hand until he had the inside of the crotch under the light. He gritted his teeth as he saw a few wet spots on the fabric (the cup was sewn in). He felt himself start to become aroused when Catwoman was pawing him but didn't think he'd leaked at all. 

Making a firm resolution to add infrared to his mask so he wouldn't be caught like that again, Dick pulled on some boxers, shorts, and a t-shirt and headed up to his room. Tomorrow he'd start scouting out this Dagger. Despite the close call, he knew he was getting closer. 


	3. Overconfidence

The club district was one that he'd never really been to before. It became in vogue after Batman died. Before, there was just a smattering of places, all very seedy and grotesque really, so if something happened there, Batman went alone. He didn't want to expose Dick at that young of an age to certain things. As such, the geography and layout of the clubs and streets was slightly unfamiliar.

Nightwing had gone to meet with O'Hara and Gordon after his "getaway" from Catwoman. He didn't tell them where he got the information from, but kept them in the loop. They seemed to be rather impressed with his first foray into solo crimefighting and that gave Dick a confidence boost. 

Dick spent a few days pouring over maps of the area and looking up the names of the different clubs. A few trips to the public library got him the blueprints for each building and he began committing them to memory. If there was one thing that he excelled at, it was research and memorization. He also used these few days to install the infrared lenses on his domino mask, with Alfred's help, of course. 

Dick was being very thorough. He knew how dangerous Deathstroke's operation was and with his first lead, he couldn't squander or risk anything. He crafted a fake ID that put him at 22 years old, which was quite a stretch at a fresh 17. Dick didn't even shave yet, but a slight bit of makeup, a very convincing dirty blond wig, and a hat, and he aged himself right up. 

His plan was to survey the clubs as a normal person. It would certainly draw less attention than if he was spotted on rooftops or in alley ways as Nightwing. Plus, it gave him the ability to in and out of the clubs themselves and see things that might not have been on the blueprints. 

He took a cab one night into the heart of the club district. He had narrowed his search to four clubs, all of which were in close proximity. The other clubs were further out and not very centrally located. If one wanted to centralize an operation amongst different clubs, these were the four to do it. 

The bouncers barely looked at his ID and waved him through each time. He would sit in different places in each club, scoping out the entrances, number of patrons, number of employees, and the rather obvious gang members. He would also use the bathroom in each club as well, acting confused as he searched the back hallways for the bathroom that was clearly marked. He would "accidentally" stumble into the kitchen or store rooms in the back, acting drunk and confused and laughing while surreptitiously gathering mental information on the layouts. 

All four clubs seemed to have been designed by the same architect and were very similar. That was another reason Dick figured those were the clubs to choose. A rather standard layout made it easier for the criminals to anticipate things and control things. 

It was the fourth and final night of his sleuthing that he saw two businessmen enter the club. They looked very out of place to Dick, but most people were to drunk to notice. They looked around the whole place very warily and Dick played with a chip in the wooden table as he sipped his drink and watched them with his peripherals. They then silently strode through the club and up to the bar. The bartender, who Dick knew for sure was in on the whole thing, eyed them the whole way up. Dick had chosen a spot where he could lipread the people at the bar and saw the closest man to the bartender mouth the word 'Dagger', but was clearly trying to keep his voice down. The bartender seemed upset about something but Dick couldn't hear him or see his lips. He then jerked his head towards the back hallway where the restrooms were. 

As the men nodded and left, Dick 'stumbled' out of his booth and walked in a slight swerve towards the bathroom, giving the bartender a goofy smile as he passed and the bartender simply rolled his eyes at the intoxicated patron. Dick gained a bit on the two men as they entered the hallway. Dick followed at a safe distance and saw them knock on a door that, in the darkness, you could barely tell was even there. The door opened and Dick swiftly followed, walking past the closing door to the bathroom and glancing inside. He was just able to see the interior of the room. It was very small and contained a single table with four chairs. At one of the chairs sat a young woman, most likely in her mid 20's, who looked very intimidating. And that was it. There were no other people in that room apart from the two businessmen and 'Dagger', if that was her. 

Dick spent some fake time in the bathroom before walking slowly past the room again. He had brought a small listening device that he placed at the bottom of the door and turned on his earpiece. The door was made of some material, apparently, that interfered with listening devices because what should have been a clear sound was filled with static and distortion. All Dick could make out was the woman's voice who seemed to be upset that the men were so conspicuous, and then something about Deathstroke. That's all Dick needed. He turned off his earpiece and when that happened, the listening device dissolved into nothing. He re-entered the club and 'stumbled' through it to the exit and hailed a cab.

The next night, he visited another club and 'drunkenly' asked the bartender about Dagger. He said that someone had told him she was just awesome and he needed to meet her. The bartender leaned in so threateningly that Dick was actually slightly nervous. 

"You have no idea what you're talking about, kid," he growled. "Lucky for you, she's at another club all week. If she was here, I'd have her come out and kill you right here, right now. Best be running along if you know what's good for you."

Dick allowed his face to become petrified as he heard the bartender give him the information he needed. He ran from the club and as soon as he turned the corner, smiled to himself. He walked down the street into a deserted alleyway where he'd stashed a bag with his suit. He quickly stripped off the wig, makeup, and his clothes down to the black briefs he was already wearing and pulled on the suit. A quick double-tap and the suit formed around his lean, toned body. He clipped on his belt and put on his mask. Looking up he grappled to the top of the building and began going over the rooftops to the club he'd been at the night before.

Once he was on the correct roof, he peered over the edge. He could see the bouncer at the front door and then made his way to the opposite side. There was a service entrance that was guarded by only one guard and it was a dimly lit area that wasn't trafficked at all. 

Nightwing peered over the edge again and saw the guard at his post. He then pulled out a jammer and aimed it at the security camera. A quick laser and the camera's image was frozen. Now, when Nightwing made his move, the camera would show the guard standing there and nothing else. He then pulled out a dart that was filled with liquid bat gas. He attached his grapple and began to descend the side of the building. His boots were silent on the side of the building, and when he was close, he fired. The guard made a muffled sound as he collapsed in a heap. 

Nightwing hit the ground, removed the dart and patted the guy on the shoulder with a smile. He then silently opened the door and slipped into the dark hallway. The bathrooms were on either side of him and he could hear the loud music coming from the other side of the door. He turned on his new infrared lenses and scanned both bathrooms. They were empty. At the end of the hallway he could see the faint outlines of the many bodies on the other side of the door. And in the middle of the hallway, behind the concealed door, he could see a slim figure seated alone at a table. 

Nightwing did the quick math in his head. The two guards, one at the front door and the one at the back, the bartender, and two other possible bodyguards. So he had four guys to deal with if this went south. Bad odds for them, he thought with a smile. 

Nightwing walked silently up to the door and knocked. 

"What?" came the response from inside. Nightwing opened the door and slipped in, closing it quickly behind him. Oddly, she didn't look surprised to see a masked person come into her room. 

"And who would you be?" the woman asked, looking at Nightwing with slight confusion. 

"I'm...uh...Nightwing," Dick said in a low voice, trying to regain his composure. He wasn't expecting that reaction. 

"What do you want, Nightwing?" she asked, looking at him impatiently. Nightwing approached the table and he could see her sizing up his tightly clad lean body. 

"Are you Dagger?" he asked, trying to sound tough.

"That's right. I said what do you want?" she asked again, growing angrier. 

"Where can I find Deathstroke?" Nightwing asked flatly. If she wasn't going to beat around the bush, neither would he.

"Who's that?" she asked with a wry smirk and leaning back in her chair. 

"I have ways of getting the information out of you," Nightwing said, flexing his lean muscles. 

"You're a little young to be making threats, kid," she said with a sneer. "And you're not in friendly territory."

"I took out your guard in the back without a problem. I think I'll be ok," Nightwing said. 

She smiled a smile that sent a slight chill down Nightwing's spine. 

"Oh my dear little hero, your overconfidence is laughable. You've grossly underestimated the peril of your current situation."

Nightwing paused as he realized the music had stopped playing. He looked at Dagger who was smiling with confidence and holding a small remote in her hand with a single button on it.

"The fact that when you no doubt scouted this place as your alter ego or whatever you didn't think that I'd be protected from something like you really says something about you. You're not very good at this, are you Nightwing?" she said, putting the remote down. "Go ahead, try to leave."

His heart now racing and an ominous feeling rising in his stomach, he bolted out the door like the wind and was at the back door in a second. However, it was sealed shut. He turned around and walked back to the open door. Dagger sat in her chair, still smiling. 

"The back door is magnetically sealed. I doubt you have anything in that little belt of yours that could open it before someone stopped you. Go ahead, try the only other door."

Nightwing gritted his teeth and walked slowly towards the door to the rest of the club. He opened it and froze. The entire club was on its feet and looking at him. Many had guns drawn. By the numbers Nightwing could tell that the patrons that weren't in on the operation had left, but that still left about 40 people in the room that were facing him, both men and women alike. Nightwing's hand went quickly to his belt to grab a series of flashbangs and smokebombs, assuming that could get him to the front door or a window that he could break out of. But he froze as he heard the click of a gun behind him and felt cold steel press against the back of his head and a cold blade across his neck.

"Don't try it, kid," came Dagger's voice as she simultaneously held a gun to his head and a dagger to his throat. "Now you know why they call me Dagger," she whispered in his ear. "Take off the belt and toss it in front of you," she ordered. 

Moving slowly and deliberately, Nightwing complied. The gloves reacted with his belt to allow it to unbuckle and he tossed it ahead of him into the crowd of people. No one moved to grab it. They all still stared at him with guns and fists ready. 

"Now, Nightwing, let's go back into my little sitting room and have a different conversation, ok?"

Two massive men appeared out of the crowd and each grabbed one of Nightwing's toned arms. They turned him around and marched him back into the hallway and into the room. As the door closed on the four of them, Nightwing heard the music of the club start up again. 


	4. Perilous Safety

The two strongmen squeezed Nightwing's upper arms tightly. Even through his reactive suit, he could feel the intense pressure. And it hurt. They marched the young hero back into the room he'd just vacated and he saw that in his brief absence, Dagger had slid the table to the side of the room and two of the chairs as well. That left two chairs facing each other with nothing between them. Nightwing was turned around and forced down into the chair that faced the door while Dagger closed the door to the hallway and casually sat down across from him, crossing her legs calmly and looking at the masked teenager who was desperately trying not to broadcast the panic in his head. 

She looked him up and down as he sat in the metallic chair. He folded his gloved hands in his lap and his booted feet were planted firmly on the ground. The two men each had a strong hand pressing down on his shoulders, keeping his firm butt planted in the seat. She followed the contour of his suit from his neck, down over his torso, his legs, and to the floor, then slowly her eyes met his determined masked blue eyes. 

"So, what were we chatting about again?" she asked in a fake, kind voice.

"Deathstroke," Nightwing replied with a sarcastic raise of the eyebrows. One of the strongmen delivered a strong punch to Nightwing's face. He muffled his scream of pain quickly, instead grunting slightly as his head shot to the side from the unexpected blow. 

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" she asked again in the same tone. 

"Deathstroke," Nightwing replied in his same tone as well. A similar blow from the other side was the response. He coughed slightly and spit some blood onto the floor. At that, Dagger stood up and wrapped her hand around Nightwing's throat. Her grip was surprisingly strong, but he chose to leave his hands in his lap as opposed to try to pry hers off. 

"Don't dirty my floor," she said, releasing her grip. She sat back down and Nightwing smiled slightly. "Something amusing?" she asked, losing her nice tone.

"You're easily provoked. It's a weakness," Nightwing said. 

"You're overconfident. It's deadly," she replied in a low voice. Nightwing didn't flinch. "So, kid, who are you and what are you really doing here?"

"You really expect me to tell you who I am?" Nightwing asked with a touch of bravado.

"No, not really," she replied nonchalantly. She nodded at the strongman to Nightwing's right who, while maintaining one strong hand on the hero's shoulder, moved his other to the domino mask on Nightwing's face. He dug around, quite painfully, trying to find leverage to pull it off, but it was sealed, practically welded, to Nightwing's face. Dick grimaced as the man dug into the skin on his face, but then smiled as he gave up his pursuit. 

Dagger pursed her lips as she looked the silent hero up and down, then smiled again. 

"It's probably reactive, like his belt. Help him take it off," she said. Nightwing didn't flinch as the same man roughly grabbed his right arm out of his lap and brought it to his mask. However, nothing happened. Dagger didn't look pleased but quickly shifted her tone and demeanor again. 

"Well, all in good time. By the time we're through, you'll be begging to tell me everything I want to know," she said. She nodded at the two men holding Nightwing down and they nodded silently. The one on his left hoisted him up under his arms to a standing position while the other kicked the chair out from under him. The one holding him pulled his lean arms roughly and tightly behind his body and held him tight. Nightwing struggled slightly, but he was no match for the strength of this man. The other man walked around to the front of him, making no facial expression at all. Then, without warning or ceremony, delivered a body blow to Nightwing's stomach. 

There was a thud as the massive fist connected with Nightwing's abs and Nightwing bent over slightly as he made an involuntary noise of pain. Then the blows began to fall quickly and rapidly, hitting every point on Nightwing's torso. After 20 or so hits, the men switched places and it began again. They only struck the torso, which Nightwing couldn't figure out why. What they didn't know, however, was that due to the reactive nature of his carbon fiber and kevlar suit, the blows were losing a lot of their effectiveness. It was still incredibly painful, but Dick's body was being well-protected. 

Nightwing didn't notice Dagger leave and re-enter the room. She was holding a metal bat. 

"Honey, try this and see if it elicits some reaction," she said with a smile. Dick gulped as the man grabbed the bat and it connected with the side of Dick's ribs. He felt that one. His reactive suit only stopped so much and these hits were going to leave some damage. The man connected several times while also driving it straight into Dick's stomach by the end as well. 

Nightwing coughed and sputtered after the last hit, but looked determined. Dagger raised an eyebrow, but then seemed satisfied with something. The man actually looked a little confused and turned to face her. 

"His suit is reactive. Probably kevlar and carbon fiber, so it's absorbing a lot of the damage," she said. "That's why I got the bat, just to make sure. Hit him in the face now," she said. The man turned around, still expressionless, and swung. This was what Nightwing had been waiting for. 

He used his speed to duck quickly and the bat connected with a sickening crack with the man's face behind him. It was only half a second of confusion, but that's more than Nightwing needed. He grabbed the bat out of the shocked hands of his attacker and connected with his face as well, sending him careening to the floor. Like lightening he threw the end of the bat into the stomach of Dagger as she was reaching for her knife. It knocked the wind out of her and Nightwing, ever the gentleman, simply threw her out of his way. He was out the door and into the hallway, moving towards the club. His body ached from the pain of the blows but he had to ignore it. 

He burst into the loud club and there were a few screams from patrons at his sudden appearance. He stuck out his gloved hand and his belt came rocketing towards him from behind the bar. Once it was in his hand he released two flashbangs and two smoke bombs. More screams as Nightwing ran towards the exit, clipping the belt around his narrow waist. Then there were shots. Bullets began flying in the chaos and at least 4 or 5 (Dick was too panicked to notice) struck Nightwing in his already bruised torso. He muffled his screams of pain as his suit stopped the bullet but not the impact. The pain was unreal. Something grazed his neck. He was out the door. 

The air was cool against his face. His neck was stinging. His legs were burning. He kept running. 

He was around the corner. His bike de-cloaked at his approach. He heard more shots and screamed out of the alleyway. 

His hair whipped in the wind. His masked eyes teared up slightly as he rocketed down the streets. The pain in his torso and neck were growing. The world was becoming black. He couldn't make it back to his hideout. His mind was sludge now. He couldn't think. He needed safety. He needed to hide. He turned a sharp corner into an alleyway. The turn was too tight. He was off the bike and into a wall. He tucked his head and collided with the wall with his back. The suit absorbed the impact somewhat, but that was the final straw for his weakened body. He was out before he hit the ground. 

***

The music from the club could be heard through the door, even with the slaps that seemed to echo in the tiny space. Tears stained Nightwing's masked face as he winced in pain at every stroke. Dagger's face was twisted in glee as the young hero was sprawled across her lap. His suit hung over a nearby chair and the two strongmen stood guard on either side of the door, watching the scene unfold before them. The black briefs with the protective cup sewn in were around Nightwing's smooth ankles and his pert, virgin ass was red as Dagger's hand did its damage. 

Another loud smack rang out and Nightwing yelped slightly. 

"Thank you, Dagger, may I please have another!" Nightwing heard himself say. 

"Well, since you asked so politely," Dagger said, slapping the sore ass again. Nightwing repeated the phrase again and again, desperately wishing he wouldn't, but knowing what would happen if he didn't. Another slap.

"Thank you, Dagger, may I please have another!" Nightwing said through the pain.

"Well, actually, it's time to go, but perhaps later, if you're good," she said. She patted his sore ass a few times, relishing in the slight jiggle and whimper that escaped Nightwing's mouth. "Come on, off you get," she said. 

Nightwing slowly rolled himself off of Dagger's lap and hit the ground on his back, breathing hard. Dagger looked down at his naked masked body and smiled. 

"I'm glad you enjoyed it as much as I did," Dagger said. Nightwing looked down his lean, toned body and saw his cock at full mast, sticking straight up at 6 inches. His face went red, but he just put his head back on the floor and whimpered again. Dagger stood up and took something from one of the men at the door and leaned down. She secured a black collar around Nightwing's neck and attached a leash to it.

"Come along, Nightwing," she said. She pulled slightly and Nightwing got onto his hands and knees and began to crawl after her, his briefs being pulled off and left in the room by one of the men. She walked him like a dog down the hallway and through the door into the club. The music stopped and the room erupted into laughter at the sight of the naked masked hero. 

"Deathstroke, I present to you Nightwing. He thought he'd go ahead and try to take down your operation!" Dagger said. The room erupted again in laughter before the crowd began to part. A large figure appeared. Nightwing stared up as the figure moved closer. However, the figure seemed blurry and hard to make out. Nightwing shut his eyes tightly and opened them again. Now, a few feet in front of him, stood a large burly man. Nightwing looked up and his eyes got wide as he beheld the face of Bruce Wayne. 

***

Dick awoke with a start. He could feel the cold sweat on his face. The rest of his body no doubt sweated as well, but his suit had absorbed it and dispersed it as it's designed to do. He looked around the room quickly without moving. He was in a lot of pain, especially in his back, chest, and neck. He winced and groaned in pain as he moved slightly. The room was a bedroom, rather nondescript. It seemed to be a typical guest room of sorts. There was the normal furniture, a few random photos of landscapes and flowers. The door was closed. 

He raised a hand to his neck and felt a bandage wrapped tightly around it, just above where the suit ended. He looked down his body but didn't see any other medical things. He was lying on the bed on his back. There was a glass of water on the table and some crackers in a bowl. Without thinking, Dick grabbed a cracker and the water. He was famished. The door opened and Dick prepared to leap up, but the first movement caused pain and he cried out slightly instead. 

"Don't move!" came a reproving voice. A young woman walked in the door and closed it behind her. Dick couldn't help but notice she was very attractive. She was probably in her mid-late 30's, but didn't really look it. Her hair was light brown and medium length, and she was wearing a tight-fitting tshirt that ended right at the top of her low-rise, tight-fitting jeans. Dick couldn't help but look at the curves in her body as she approached him with some medication and a cup of what appeared to be steaming tea. Dick could smell it already and it smelled good. 

"Who are you, where am I, what happened, and what do you want?" Nightwing asked immediately as she approached. She halted her approach and stared at him with a look that Alfred used to give him when he was younger and sick and still wanted to workout and go on patrol.

"Really? That's your first set of questions?" she asked. There was something about her that seemed familiar, but Dick couldn't place it. "You're in a bedroom, you have a bandage, food and water, and a lovely nurse, and you assume that I'm nefarious in some way?" she asked incredulously. "Maybe next time I hear a bike crash and find a young masked man unconscious and bleeding from a gunshot wound to the neck, I'll just leave him there to die!" she said, slamming the tray on the bedside table. The tea spilled slightly and the pain-killers rattled on the tray. 

Nightwing realized the stupidness of his queries. First off, what was she going to do? Second, even in this state, he was more than a match for her. He looked down and his belt was still around his waist. Third, well, she was just right, he supposed. 

"I'm sorry. It's a reflex," Nightwing said apologetically. "Thank you. Can you tell me what happened, please?" he added with a slight smile. She returned it, softening immediately. 

"Well like I said, you crashed your bike outside my apartment building as I was coming home. I rushed over and you were out cold. There was a gunshot wound on your neck. The bullet appeared to just graze you. You also look like you took several shots to the torso in your back, judging by the suit, but no penetration. I tried to take the suit off, but couldn't figure out how. My friend who was with me at the time and I brought you up here. She's gone now, but helped me for the first few hours. She won't be coming back as she works and lives across town. We're both nurses," she said. 

"How long have I been out?" Nightwing asked, wincing as he tried to reach for the tea. 

"Here, let me," she cooed, grabbing it and bringing it to his soft lips. Nightwing returned her smile as he sipped gratefully. "About 8 hours," she said.

"I need to call someone," Dick said quickly, going for his belt. He winced in pain again.

"And just who would you call?" she asked. "If someone comes to get you, wouldn't that give me a clue to who you are?"

Dick was floored at how quickly she made that connection. And she was right. Alfred was the only one he could call and unless he showed up dressed as Batman or something, she'd probably recognize him since he's not exactly unknown. And Dick knew he was in no condition to go anywhere on his own.

"I don't want to be a bother," he said, leaning back against the pillows and sipping more tea. 

"You're not," she said softly, running a hand through his medium-short brown hair. The feeling of her hands in his hair felt heavenly. Dick closed his masked eyes as she did. He'd never experienced a 'motherly touch' like that before. It was very comforting. "I have the week off from work, so you're not a bother. I live alone, so you're safe. Your neck wound is superficial, but judging by the wincing, there are more injuries. I need to see under the suit," she said medically. 

"I...I can't let you," Nightwing said. "It wouldn't be proper."

"Proper?" she asked confused. "I'm a nurse, honey, what do you have that I haven't seen before? I'm not giving you a colonoscopy, but I need to see under the suit to assess the damage. I've tried to get some kind of read through it, but this puppy is tech I've never seen before. It's really something, but unfortunately doesn't allow for medical professionals to do their jobs!" she said, sounding exasperated. Nightwing subtly bit his lower lip as he thought. 

"Look, I don't care who you are. I don't want to know. I'm guessing you're a vigilante hero taking up the mantle of our beloved and former Caped Crusaders," she said with a smile. The title caused Nightwing to purse his lips slightly in remembrance. "I just want to help. I'm hoping that this magical suit of yours spared you the serious damage of GETTING SHOT FIVE TIMES," she said, emphasizing the words with a smile. Nightwing chuckled, in pain, at the implication and realized she was right. "Is it one piece?" she asked.

Nightwing nodded. 

"Then how about just down to the waist? At that point, you're wearing more than people at the pool."

Nightwing thought a moment and then realized that he was still really in control of the situation if he wanted to be. 

"Can you please step out for a minute?" Nightwing asked, taking the tea from her and draining it. She nodded with a smile and left quietly. 

He lay his head back on the pillow and breathed deeply. However, the more he was around her, the more comfortable he felt. He reached down and unclipped the utility belt after his gloves reacted with it. He placed it to his right (it was a queen-sized bed) so it was in easy reach. He also turned it so the batgas canisters were closest. Just in case. Then, he double-tapped the blue bird insignia on his chest and the suit released. He felt the seam open down his back and the entire thing loosened up. However, the legs were still pretty snug. That part never really loosened as much as the upper body. He tried to start to pull it off but the pain made him yelp slightly. 

She opened the door at that sound and came bustling in. 

"Please, allow me," she said softly, sitting on the side of the bed. She gently grabbed the loosened neckline and pulled down. Nightwing moved slightly to allow her to slip it down, off his arms and down his chest. She couldn't help but take in the sight of his smooth, toned upper body. His muscles were perfectly defined, young but thriving. His smooth chest, each pectoral capped off with a pert little nipple, then finally down to his waist, revealing his six-pack and the light trail that disappeared into his still-covered lower body. 

She began to place her hands softly, but firmly, on different spots, asking about pain levels. The pain in his chest wasn't as bad as the back. She gently turned him on his right side and he heard her gasp. There were five large bruises on his back where each bullet had struck. Dick cried out slightly as she examined them. 

"You are very lucky," she said. "I would've assumed the ribs were broken, but your magical suit seems to have spared you, but just slightly. These bruises are deep and will take several days to heal properly. The pain should subside enough in a day, though, at least enough for you to ride at a normal speed," she said very motherly as she laid him back on his back and smiled. "Your bike seemed to be fine from what I could tell and I moved it into my carport which is secure."

Nightwing smiled back as she ran her hands over his smooth chest again. Her touch felt amazing and sent warm chills, if that was possible, all throughout his body. 

"What's your name?" Nightwing asked as she absent-mindedly circled and outlined his abs with her finger. 

"Selina," she said with a smile. "Selina Kyle."

"That's a lovely name," Nightwing said back. His head was becoming a bit foggy, but he wasn't tired. He just smiled as she continued to stroke his chest with her hands. Nightwing closed his masked eyes and breathed in deeply and a soft moan escaped his lips as she planted a series of soft kisses down his smooth chest. She moved over to the side and began to flick the nub of his nipple with her tongue. The feelings were incredible and her touches were like electric love. 

She moved down slowly and deliberately, licking and kissing her way to where the suit still remained. She looked up at the young hero who was almost in a trance. His eyes were closed and she put her fingers under the seam of the suit and began to pull down further. His moans continued and she smiled as the suit eventually was removed completely. Her hands ran up both his lightly-haired legs to the black speedo that remained. She ran her tongue along the waistband, feeling his young, virginal body shudder as she did so. Then, without hesitation, she grabbed the waistband of the speedo and began to pull down. 

Nightwing's head was a haze as the feelings multiplied again and again. He moaned as he felt the speedo slide down his thighs and off his body, not caring that he was now naked in this stranger's room. His circumcised 6" cock was at full mast and laying flat against his stomach. She ran her hands back up his legs and cupped his balls as she engulfed his cock in her mouth. 

Nightwing's eyes shot open at the sensation and he moaned loudly as she began to bob up and down, tasting the hero for the first time. The pleasure made the pain disappear and she rolled his balls in her hand as he became putty in her clutches. 

His moans began to shift and she knew he was close. She sucked faster and faster until his abs tensed and he shot a load into her mouth. She didn't let one drop escape as he climaxed and then drifted off to a fast sleep. As she swallowed, she chuckled to herself, looking at the naked hero. 

"And to think, all it took was laced tea," she said to the unconscious hero. He'd be up in a few hours and would be feeling much better, so she slipped the speedo back over his softening package and pulled the suit back up to his waist. 

A few hours later, Nightwing awoke. The last thing he remembered was Selina turning him back onto his back after checking out his bruises. She was not in the room and he pulled the suit back up and activated it. Clipping the belt back on, he slowly got off the bed. He felt a little unstable, but quickly adjusted. There was a note on the inside of the door with the combination to the carport. It was a few minutes later when he was motoring slowly back to his hideout. He was so thankful that he'd found his way into the hands of someone friendly. The night could've turned out far worse, he thought. 


End file.
